


Hold My Body Down

by The_lazy_eye



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 04:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lazy_eye/pseuds/The_lazy_eye
Summary: Oh, god, Stan. Stan, with his pressed pants and button up shirts. Stan, with his ties and his suspenders and his bird book. Stan, with his accounting firm and his wife and his perfect life in Georgia. Stan, who was dead, already buried six feet under in what must have been a beautiful service.  Stan, who was everything he ever wanted in this life and more. It isn’t fair to have forgotten a boy who was perfect for him. It wasn’t fair to have lost him before he even knew that he loved him.





	Hold My Body Down

**Author's Note:**

> It Fandom Week, Day Seven: August 31th- Canon Compliant

There was nothing more painful than the aftermath. They’d fight the fight for a million years if only they didn’t have to pick up the pieces after all was said and done. The fighting was easy. Terrifying, yeah, but easy. There was no thinking down there. There was planning and execution. There was reflex and automatic swings. Down there, even before they actually went down, they didn’t have to face the reality of what all of this actually meant.

Eddie was gone. IT took him and now he was dead and armless in the grey water. There was no way for them to drag him out and all get to safety. And fuck had that hurt. Eddie. Eddie, who was his best friend. Eddie, who was his partner in crime. Eddie, who was backed into a loveless marriage and holed into a miserable life. Eddie, who had unknowingly forced himself to relive all of his childhood traumas. Eddie, who had given his life for them. Before they went down Richie promised to get Eddie out of there. He promised to help Eddie break free from his chains and live the life he’s always wanted to live. But he can’t do that now, can he? It was all broken, empty promises. He couldn’t even give Eddie the burial he deserved. He was left to rot alone in the ground, bloated and bloody and bruised.

What were they supposed to do now? What was _Richie_ supposed to do?

There they were, five of them huddled in the remains of Freese’s Department store staring out at the wreckage that is Derry after the battle, after the storm, Audra’s catatonic body slung over Bill’s shoulders. Richie watches him and he feels guilt and sadness and anger burn in his gut. How is it fair? Bill, their fearless leader, gets to keep everything after all is said and done. The one’s who followed him in get nothing. How does Bill get to keep his love while Richie has to leave his own behind?

He can’t think on it for too long. If he does, he’s scared he might break. He already had to watch Eddie bleed out and die in his arms. He can’t think about the other life he lost.

They make their way back to the Derry Townhouse slowly and silently. There isn’t anything left to say. They did it. They killed IT and smashed the eggs and they did what they needed to do. The cost was high, maybe too high depending on who you asked, but it was done. There’s no turning back. There’s no rewriting the past. Richie keeps his pace behind the others and stares off into the woods around them. They don’t need to be scared of the forest anymore but he can’t shake the feeling. Kids will no longer have police sanctioned curfews and the streets will no longer be littered with long forgotten missing child posters. The world that is Derry, Maine will, for the first time in its existence, be a safe place.

Thoughts from old Derry being to cloud his mind. His memories are shattered pieces and he’s not sure if he’ll every fully piece them together again. He remembers a band of seven, the horrors they saw, and the battle they won. He remembers a stiff boy with a bowtie and a bird book. That’s all he’ll remember him as. Richie never got to know him like the others. He never got to see this boy as a man. He never will.

By the time they make it to the Townhouse the wear is plain on their faces and in their bodies. Beverly slumps against Ben, who looks like it’s taking effort to keep himself up let alone both of them. Bill sets Audra down on a couch in the lobby and sits next to her. The look he gives her is one without words. Bill looks as if he’s going through every stage of grief right here, right now on this hotel couch _. It’s unfair_ , Richie thinks, _all of it is unfair._

Richie doesn’t think about what he must look like. He knows he has shadows in his eyes and his hair is weighed down with sweat and dirt and water. He hugs the others one by one, kisses Bev’s head, and climbs the stairs to his empty room. His plan was to shower and pass out for the night before waking up and hauling ass out of town. He accomplishes the shower part easily enough. He stands under the hot water, watching until the water swirling down the drain went from a dark, murky grey to clear. He gets lost in his thoughts and stays in the shower until the water runs cold. Once he steps out he only throws on a pair of faded, clean boxers and settles onto the bed.

Sleep doesn’t come as easily as he hoped it would. He tosses and turns under the covers into the early hours of the night. He sees IT when he closes his eyes. He hears IT outside of his window. He can hear Eddie’s scream as he fought Henry Bowers. He can see Stan’s body, covered in his own blood.

Oh, god, Stan. Stan, with his pressed pants and button up shirts. Stan, with his ties and his suspenders and his bird book. Stan, with his accounting firm and his wife and his perfect life in Georgia. Stan, who was dead, already buried six feet under in what must have been a beautiful service.  Stan, who was everything he ever wanted in this life and more. It isn’t fair to have forgotten a boy who was perfect for him. It wasn’t fair to have lost him before he even knew that he loved him.

But maybe he did know, once. Maybe there was still more that was left to be uncovered. Richie licks his lips and he swears he could taste something new. Something new and familiar and so, so sweet that he has to close his eyes just to keep all of the emotions inside. He can’t, though, and the tears run quickly down his cheeks. Maybe they had something once but he’ll never be able to fully know.

Only pieces come back and that’s all he has to hold onto. There’s an empty weight his in hand, a distant voice in his ear, a faint taste on his lips. He could swear they had something real, something he’ll never have again.

The next morning his things are thrown back in his suitcase and he’s dragging himself down the stairs when he hears his name. Beverly rushes down to him, launches herself into his arms, and kisses his face sweetly before saying goodbye. Beverly and Ben will drive off together, Bill will take Audra home, and Mike will get the freedom to live out the rest of his life in whatever way he sees fit. Richie will do what he can to keep himself going.

He doesn’t say goodbye to the others. He doesn’t know if he’ll see them again before he’s dead but he knows he won’t forget them this time. When he’s well above the ground and rocketing out of Derry the memories are still strong and fierce in his head. He thinks of where he’s headed and almost wishes he would forget.

His plane touches down in Georgia and he rents a car. Stan’s address was easy to find. Richie had called his personal assistant before leaving that morning and she produced it in a matter of a half an hour. He picks up flowers on the way.

He hesitates at the door. He could turn around and never come back. No one would know he was here and he could move on with his life. It’s the easier option, this he knows, but he brings his hand up anyway. When he knocks on the door to the house, a simple two-story white picket fence American dream sort of thing, a woman no older than 35 answers the door. He can see the exhaustion in her face and wonders if he looks the same to her. He must because she smiles and steps aside and lets him in.

He introduces himself as a friend of Stan’s from childhood and she makes them both tea. They talk. Patty tells Richie about Stan in college and how they met. He tells her stories from their childhood together and she laughs through her tears. She shares stories about how he proposed with a flower through her ring and how he encouraged her to apply for the job that landed them in Atlanta. Every word she says strikes him through the heart. Stan was everything Richie imagined in a husband and everything he would never get to know.

She shows him Stan’s bird books that he kept through the years. Richie recognizes one. The edges are worn thin and there are intents in the shape of a child’s fingers near the broken spine. He notices how the book is curved, as if someone took both sides and bent as hard as they could. He tries not to think of how it got that way. Instead, he opens it and shows her the one’s they saw together. He leaves out the part about how he’s sure their first kiss was in the woods somewhere while Stan was trying to spot some kind of bird. He can feel the ache of missing Stan crawling up his throat and into the back of his head.

After the story of their wedding Richie excuses himself. She hugs him at the door, tight and sad and loving, and slips a small piece of paper with neat, precise handwriting into the pocket of Richie’s jacket. He leaves with a promise to keep in touch but they both know he won’t.

When he’s a few blocks away he pulls over. It’s hard to drive through the tears and he knows he has to compose himself before he drives off the road. He reaches into his pockets for a tissue, a napkin, anything to stop the snot running down his face and he finds the paper Party slipped him. Instead of a phone number he finds an address with simple, hand written directions.

He follows them and ends up standing in front of a patch of fresh dirt with a simple granite headstone.

_Here lie Stanley Uris_  
1946-1985  
Son, friend, husband  
Heavenly bodies are nests for invisible birds

The plot is simple. The ground is covered in flowers and the headstone has several stones sitting on top of it. Richie isn’t quite sure what he expects when he gets there. It isn’t like Stan is waiting here for him. He won’t come up out of the dirt and embrace Richie. He won’t whisper down from heaven to tell Richie he loves him, it’s always been him.

Richie has to do everything himself around here.

He sits down on the dirt and absentmindedly rubs as his chest. The Georgia air is thick and warm and he can feel his chest tightening.

“Stan. Staniel the Maniel. Long time no see,” he all but whispers, “fuck.” His voice cracks on the word and he takes a deep breath to compose himself before trying again. “I can’t remember it all, but I remember loving you. I don’t know if you loved me back, but I sure hope you did.”

He pauses, sucking in a wet breath and looks around. It’s hauntingly beautiful in the cemetery. The low light of the sun creates long shadows off of the tombstones and he can hear the birds in the distance.

“Patty is good for you, isn’t she? I can tell she loved you. You loved her, too. I hope you were happy, Stan. That’s all you ever deserved.”

He stands and dusts himself off before picking up a small, smooth stone hiding in the grass. He brings it to his lips and closes his eyes, kissing it gently. He leaves it on the granite, off center and towards the back, away from the other stones, before setting off towards what’s left for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. 
> 
> Reddie-For-Anything.tumblr.com


End file.
